


Every Call

by bibliotaphist



Series: home is where you make it [2]
Category: Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons), Trollhunters - Daniel Kraus & Guillermo del Toro
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Jim gives Angor his ring back, and gets the beginning of a brand new dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:20:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26759347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bibliotaphist/pseuds/bibliotaphist
Summary: “Are you gonna kill me the minute I give this to you?” he asked, so genuinely that Angor knew it hadn’t left his mind for a single step.“Why don’t we find out?”In which Jim makes a choice.
Series: home is where you make it [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1617895
Comments: 4
Kudos: 80





	Every Call

**Author's Note:**

> Wizards dropped, so Trollhunters owns my pussy again

The sewers were an ideal shelter, protecting Angor from all the prying eyes of Arcadia, save the rats. Strickler never deigned to visit him here, and the cement walls carried sound so far, none could step foot within a mile without him knowing. Perhaps it was ill-advised, but here, he could enjoy something close to relaxation, and he cherished the rare luxury. Turning a totem in his hands, he leaned against the wall on his makeshift seat, wondering. Would the boy Trollhunter have the stones to take his ring?

He heard a soft _pop_ , a faint rush of air, and glanced up. As if summoned, the Trollhunter had suddenly materialized a few scant yards away.

Angor soared from his seat to land on all fours over the boy, who crumpled under his weight. Jim flung his hands up over his face.

“ _Wait, wait, wait,_ uncle! I’m here to deal!”

His knife screeched to a halt, a hairsbreadth away from the open palm.

“Where did you come from?” Angor hoped it wasn’t too obvious how put out he was. Was he losing his touch?

The Trollhunter scuttled away like a crab. Safely out of range, he scrambled to his feet.

“I have it.” he reached one hand into his jacket pocket, and emerged with with an amber glow peeking through his fingers.

Angor’s breath quickened. It was so _close_.

“Give it to me.” he rasped.

“Hang on,” the boy took a step back, “We have to talk,” Angor’s hands convulsed.

“ _Give it to me.”_

“Just listen,” Jim stepped backwards as Angor advanced. “Listen, I want to help you out here, I really do, but--”

“I have waited _centuries,_ ” his voice rolled like a thunderhead through the cement tunnel. “Give me what is mine.”

“I will if you just _listen!_ ” Jim shouted.

Angor stopped. Jim’s echo lingered, and he looked as surprised as Angor.

“Alright, look,” he said slowly. “I’m supposed to answer every call. Even yours.” He avoided Angor’s eyes, staring instead at the ring. “What Strickler’s doing to you is wrong. I wanna help you,” his eyes darted up nervously. “But you aren’t going to kill him until _after_ you undo the binding spell, right?”

“I said I would, didn’t I?” Angor snapped. Jim must have scented danger, because he took a few more rabbit hops back.

“It’s just that you seem _really_ excited about murdering him, and I’m kinda worried he won’t be the only one you...” he slashed across his throat with his finger. A chesire smile split Angor’s craggy face.

“I suppose you’ll just have to take the chance, brave Hunter,” he dragged a thumbnail up the hilt of his knife. “Because it’s far too late to turn back now.”

Jim swallowed audibly.

“Now,” he held out one hand, and hoped Jim wouldn’t notice the tremor. _“The ring.”_

Jim walked towards him, slowly, the ring in his open palm. He hesitated a foot away.

“Are you gonna kill me the minute I give this to you?” he asked, so genuinely that Angor knew it hadn’t left his mind for a single step.

“Why don’t we find out?”

Jim took a deep breath, and held out his hand.

Angor struck.

Jim vaulted backwards. He landed on all fours, back arched like a cat.

They stared at each other for a moment. Angor held his ring. Jim clutched the Amulet in one fist.

Angor’s laughter could have cut glass. Jim flinched at the sound.

“You don’t trust me; that is wise.” Angor was too pleased to be properly spiteful. His soul called out to him from the ring, rushing up his body, pulsing like a heartbeat, reaching into the yawning darkness that used to be its home. It was… warm. Alive. Not the same as it was, but after all this time, it was enough.

“Yeah,” Jim said slowly, reassured enough to slip the Amulet back into his pocket. “Then you won’t mind if I follow you out.”

Angor strolled past him, sliding the ring onto his finger. How considerate of the Witch to make it just his color.

“How is it that I didn’t hear you coming?” he asked conversationally as he admired his prize.

“Long story,” Jim said from behind him, picking up his little motorbike and wheeling it along. “Uh, Angor?” he was trying hard to sound casual, but swung wide.

“Mm?”

“Blinky told me about you. He said you’ve never missed a Mark, not once.”

“He’s right.” Angor stole a look over his shoulder. The Trollhunter was staring at the ground, brow furrowed.

“Then, if the time comes, when you… Promise me one thing.” he lifted his eyes sharply, holding Angor’s gaze with something akin to ferocity. “Leave my friends out of this.”

Angor blinked. “ _If_ the time comes? Not planning to throw yourself on my sword, then?”

“Nope. You want my head on a spike, you gotta earn it. But they have nothing to do with this. If giving you your ring means anything, _just take me._ ”

They walked in silence for a moment, hearing nothing but the soft squeak of the Vespa wheels. Angor turned the words around in his head. Long-forgotten sympathy flickered like a guttering torch in the back of his mind, and he glanced at the ring, half-expecting it to pulse.

“I’ll think on it.” he finally replied as they reached the mouth of the tunnel, sunlight stretching in long columns through the grating bars. Angor stopped, watching the boy pass him into welcoming daylight.

As he left, Jim looked over his shoulder, just once. He gave a tired smile.

“Guess I’ll catch you later.” He buckled the helmet under his chin, swinging a leg over the Vespa. With a cough of smoke, he wheeled off into the golden afternoon.

“Until next time, Hunter.” Angor murmured after him.

**Author's Note:**

> the really messed up thing about Morgana taking Angor's soul is that i think what she really did was take away his capacity for empathy. 
> 
> we see pretty clearly he had a ton before, because he fished a dead human out of the ocean and said a prayer for her after, in an era where trolls and humans _really_ did not get along. then again, when Jim asks him what he was fighting for. Angor was, quite literally, one of the nicest trolls in the show before Morgana got to him and i will never stop being biTTER ABOUT IT, so here, beginning of the divergence.


End file.
